


Commonwealth Blues

by The_Desert_Dancer



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Domestic Fluff, Evil Sole Survivor, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Forced Marriage, Guilt, Institute-Aligned Sole Survivor, More than one Sole Survivor, Multiple Sole Survivors, Sad Pre-War World, happy endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-04-26 16:19:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14405886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Desert_Dancer/pseuds/The_Desert_Dancer
Summary: The Commonwealth is filled with stories, most of them tinged with sorrow and blues. In this series you will see six different Sole Survivors, struggling through life in a Post-War world and trying to survive hardships. Rated M for strong language, character deaths and mature themes. WIP!(Starring Sole Survivor Callahan, Sole Survivor Riott, Sole Survivor Ghost, Sole Survivor Scarecrow, Sole Survivor Rourke "Hawkeye" Lorcan, and Sole Survivor Catalina Perez)





	1. A Gentleman In Pink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iron_Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron_Angel/gifts), [TinyFakeFanficRock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyFakeFanficRock/gifts).



"This is bad, this is very bad." Ellie Perkins thought, fear coursing through her body. "Of all the ways to die, THIS isn't how I pictured it."

She tried to remember what had happened to her, but it was quite an effort; her head felt like mashed tatos. Last thing she remembered was journeying over to Goodneighbour on one of the few days off she had, when she got jumped by some Raiders and after that...well, things just got fuzzy for her.

The Diamond City native currently found herself restrained to a chair, the hand cuffs chaffing her wrists. Her dress was ripped and stained with blood, and she was positive that she was gonna have a black eye tomorrow. That is, if she would even make it to tomorrow…

"Nice to see you're awake, bitch." A voice growled in front of her. "Can't have you dying on us yet."

Ellie lifted her head up, to look at the only other occupant of the small room. A man stood in front of her, dressed in some homemade armour; it was an ugly looking thing, made of twisted metal and rusted parts. She couldn't see his face, obscured by a mask made from a mixture of cloth and steel.

"Wh-who are you?" Ellie asked, her voice sounding hoarse.

"The name's Rook, leader of my gang." The man explained. "And you are being held for ransom, girl. You're connected to some pretty important people, which means a big pay off."

"You can't expect Nick Valentine to just lay down and accept your demands." Ellie retorted. "He'll come and rescue me."

"That piece of junk? He's small peanuts." Rook stated. "We went straight to the top for this one."

Silence filled the air, as Ellie sat there momentarily confused. But once she managed to piece everything together, she could feel the blood drain from her face and pool into her feet. They couldn't possibly mean…

"The Sole Survivor?" Ellie muttered.

"Bingo. I gave him the location of an abandoned apartment complex not too far from here, where one of my men is waiting for payment." Rook retorted. "I'm sure the General of the Minutemen has a few caps to spare, for saving one of his friends. And if not…well, we can definitely make use of you here. Been a while since we had a woman here, if you get my drift."

Ellie just sat there, eyes wide and staring straight at Rook. Suddenly, the Diamond City native broke out into a fit of giggles and a wide grin appearing on her face. Rook just stood there silently, wondering what the hell had just happened to cause this woman to react like this.

"Oh, sorry for laughing." Ellie explained. "But if you told the Sole Survivor that you had me hostage and you planned to kill me? You're definitely screwed over."

"I doubt that, girl." Rook growled. "You'd have a bullet in your brain as soon as that idiot tried to enter this place, and that's if he manages to figure out where you are."

"Well, he probably does already." Ellie stated. "That guy you sent to that apartment complex? The Sole Survivor definitely killed him, but not before pumping him from information, like where I was being kept. Heck, he's probably already killed anyone that's guarding the entrance to this place and is making his way through this building right now."

"I doubt it." Rook retorted. "I've got ten men in this building alone, with another five guarding the outside. Doubt a single man, even one like The Sole Survivor, could sneak his way through all that."

"You obviously haven't heard about the Silent Massacre of Gunner Plaza, then." Ellie answered, eyebrow raised. "Filled to the brim with Gunners and the like, and was basically thought to be impossible to take back; The Sole Survivor managed to sneak in and kill everyone without raising the alarm. Only reason anyone figured out what had happened was because the Survivor left Captain Wes' corpse on Quincy's doorstep. The man can be loud, explosive and demands attention, but he can be as silent as the night."

"How do you know so much about this guy, anyway?" Rook asked.

"Oh, that's an easy question to answer." Ellie explained, a smile slowly forming on her face. "I'm his girlfriend."

The Raider boss's body tone dramatically changed as soon as those words left Ellie's lips; his body visibly stiffened, like all the joints in his body locked into place. Rook quickly turned around, gun already withdrawn, before kicking the door down. The sound echoed through the hallway uninterrupted, before silence reigned. Fear coursed through Rook's veins, as he examined the hallway. He could see blood splatters and guns littering the ground, but there were no bodies in sight. Something was wrong here, very wrong; there were two Raiders guarding this hallway before.

As Rook tried to figure out what the fuck was happening, he didn't even hear someone sneaking up on him until he felt a punch smashing against the back of his skull. Rook's whole world went into a tizzy, as the Raider Boss stumbled back into the room with Ellie. He felt a scream emitting from his mouth, as pain wracked his body. Rook quickly looked towards the doorway, to see a man standing there. He was a tall bastard and as thin as a rake, with skin tanned from travelling out in the open sun. He wore black slacks and a vest, with a crisp white shirt underneath. A Power Fist, stained with blood, was attached to the man's right hand. The most striking thing about this guy though, was his hair; it was a bright pink, a shade of colour rarely seen in the Wastelands.

"Hello, my name is Callahan." The man stated. "But you can call me 'The Sole Survivor'."

Just as Rook was about to fire his gun, this guy rushed forward and smashed his Fist against Rook's elbow. The Raider boss screamed as pain coursed through his arm, like he had just set his skin on fire. The gun went clattering to the ground, with Callahan kicking it away. The weapon went skittering across the dirty floor, before hitting the corner. Rook let out an enraged growl, as he started punching at Callahan with his one good arm. Most of the punches found their mark, landing right in the Sole Survivor's chest and gut. Callahan let out a grunt, as he slowly backed away.

"Come on, you son of a bitch!" Rook shouted. "Fight me like a fuckin' man!"

"No need to swear." The Sole Survivor muttered, charging forward.

Rook quickly ducked out of the way, before stomping on Callahan's left knee. The Vault 111 native let out a grunt, as he collapsed to one knee. Sensing a window of opportunity, Rook grabbed Callahan by the hair and started punching him square in the face. Callahan tried to get up, but Rook always seemed to be able to counter his decisions. Just as Callahan was about to enter unconsciousness, a loud bang filled the air, with Rook's head exploding into a gory mess. His headless corpse collapsed to the ground in a heap, his blood staining the floor and Callahan's face. The Sole Survivor let out a tired grunt, as he slowly turned around.

Ellie was standing up, handcuffs and chair on the floor, Rook's gun in her hands. A wide grin appeared on the Vault 111 native's face, as he slowly got up and hobbled towards Ellie, before wrapping her in a tight hug and a quick kiss. Ellie returned the kiss, ignoring the fact that her lover's face was currently caked in another man's blood.

"How the hell did you escape?" Callahan asked.

"Bobby pin." Ellie explained. "Piper taught me a thing or two about picking locks."

"Remind me to buy her a round of drinks, next time we're in Diamond City." Callahan muttered, letting out a tired sigh. "I'm so sorry Ellie; should've been there for you."

"Cal, don't do this." Ellie stated, gently swatting him on the shoulder. "You always beat yourself up when something happens to people you know, so I'm gonna cut it off at the past; it wasn't your fault and you couldn't possibly have known."

"Doesn't mean I'm happy with what happened." The Sole Survivor grumbled. "Those Raiders…they didn't–"

"No, they didn't touch me like that." Ellie quickly responded. "If they did, I would've aimed lower when I shot Rook."

"That's my girl." Callahan muttered, leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "But first, I gotta sit down. Still seeing spots from that brawl."

"Softie." Ellie retorted cheekily.

"Guilty as charged." The Sole Survivor answered, a grin on his face.


	2. Rage Against The Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my Sole Survivor, Riott
> 
> Thanks to Anknonymous for beta-reading this first!

Silence was the most popular sound inside of Publick Occurrences, punctuated only by the sound of pen on paper and the occasional question. It wasn't even a nice silence; it was a tense one, a silence that hung over awkward situations that neither party wanted to address, for fear of dredging up problems.

Piper Wright had thought that this interview would be the one she could hang her cap on, the interview that would bring the largest audience to her newspaper; an interview with not only someone who had lived in the pre-war world, but the General of the Minutemen and destroyer of the Institute. It seemed like a no-brainer choice, having an interview with the most-talked about person in the Commonwealth.

And while it seemed like a good idea on paper…actually going through with the interview was a different story all together.

"So, what has been the biggest change for you, going from your world to this one?" Piper inquired. "I can only imagine going from a Pre-War world to a world like this, must've been one hell of a culture shock. What has been the hardest thing to get used to?"

The woman across from Piper leaned back in her chair, biting her lower lip and looking up at the ceiling. Her hair was cropped short and dyed a black that was as dark as midnight, with skin a shade of white rarely seen in the Wastelands. She wore a leather jacket covered in badges and pins and wore a black skirt that reached past her knees. A baseball bat, stained red with blood, laid on the ground next to her. Piper only needed to take one look at this woman to see that her name, Riott, was quite appropriate.

"Oh, has to be the food." The Sole Survivor answered. "The Nuka Cola is flat, all the pre-war food is stale as shit, and don't even get me started on Brahmin steaks. I've chewed on tires that were less rubbery than these damn Brahmin meat."

"…really?" Piper asked. "Not the killing? Or lack of a government? Or even the fact that the whole world got enveloped in nuclear fire, killing millions of people?"

"Nah, it's the food." Riott stated, nodding her head. "Or maybe the lack of clean mattresses….nah wait, it's definitely the food."

'Lord, give me mercy.' Piper thought, letting out a tired sigh.

It had been like this for the past twenty minutes; Piper asking serious questions, either about the pre-war world or her role as leader of the Minutemen or even about her destroying the Institute. And every answer she had been given so far had been…well, just jokes. Piper could just hear the sarcasm dripping from every word that left Riott's mouth, and it was starting to get on the reporter's nerves.

"Is…well, is there anyone from the pre-War world that you miss?" Piper asked. "Any family members or friends you wish were still around? Maybe like your husband or your mother?"

"Yeah, of course." Riott responded. "My dog, Gizmo. I miss the poor bugger every day."

"Can you please give me a serious answer?" Piper asked, no practically begged. "It's important that people get a first-hand account of the pre-war world."

"Well I can tell you one thing for sure." Riott responded, a grin on her face. "Best thing that happened was nuclear apocalypse."

Piper just sat in her chair silently, eyes wide with shock as she stared straight at the Sole Survivor. Before the reporter even knew what she was doing, she had bolted straight up, her chair clattering to the ground. Her notebook and pen went hurtling across the room and landed on the other side of the room, as Piper turned to face Riott.

"How can you be so blasé? How can you just not give a damn about any of this!?" Piper demanded, her voice rising with every word out of her mouth. "Everyone talks about you, saying how much of a hero and a saviour you are. But all you've done so far is talk about Nuka Cola and dogs, instead of actually giving proper answers. How could you not care about your husband, your child, or anything about the world you lived in before? What kind of damn person are you!?"

To the Vault 111 native's credit, she hadn't so much as flinched as she listened to Piper's passionate tirade. Riott had just sat there silently, her pale face having gone stone still, all hints of mischief and sarcasm vanished. Riott reached down and grabbed her baseball bat, before standing up right in front of Piper, their noses just brushing up against each other.

And as Piper stared into the brown eyes of the Sole Survivor, seeing the anger and fury that blazed in her eyes, the reporter couldn't help but feel that she might have just put her foot in her mouth and pissed off someone that she should've left well alone.

"I don't like talking about the pre-war world, Miss Wright." Riott stated simply, her words laced with fury. "It was like being ruled over the Brotherhood of Steel; everyone was forced to enlist into the army and fight the Chinese, no matter who they were. Protestors were rounded up and sent to camps, along with anyone who even had a hint of Chinese heritage. I can't tell you how many friends I had simply disappear, cause they talked badly about the war or the government. And don't even get me fucking started on the fact that I was forced to marry Nate."

"Wait, what?" Piper asked. "Forced marriage?"

What little colour Riott had quickly drained from her face, as if realizing she had just said too much. The Vault 111 native fell silent for a few seconds, before finally speaking up.

"I was…well, dating Nate for a few weeks, set up between our parents. He was alright, but not really someone I could love. He was just…well, too emotionally distant for me. Anytime I cried or showed any emotions besides being happy, he went running for the hills."

"But…how did you end up marrying him?"

"He got me pregnant, and the idiot immediately told his parents and mine. We were forced to marry, as it was considered 'sinful' to get a woman pregnant you weren't married to. And I wasn't allowed to get an abortion, as it had been banned by the old government and women were tossed into prisons if they did abort their children. Children were needed for future soldiers in their wars…"

"Oh my god…" Piper muttered. "I am so so–"

"Don't…just don't." Riott fired back, fixing Piper with an intense glare. "And don't you dare publish anything I've just said, otherwise I'll rip your damn head off."

* * *

 

"The ceiling is starting to crack," Riott thought to herself. "Need to tell Codsworth about it."

The Vault 111 native didn't know how long she had stayed inside of her room in Sanctuary Hills, lying on her bed and staring up at the ceiling. It had definitely been a few hours, just hard to say exactly how many hours it was. And quite frankly, Riott didn't really give a damn how long she had stayed inside her room, cause right now she wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone.

"Had a bad day?" A new voice inquired.

Lifting her head up at the voice, a small smile graced Riott's face as she turned to face the doorway. Standing there leaning against the doorway was X6-88, former Institute courser and currently the person Riott trusted the most. It was definitely an odd coupling, a synthetic killing machine and a rebel goth punk teaming up, but it was definitely a pairing that worked. For whatever reason, the two just seemed to gel together well, both in fighting skills and personality wise.

"I thought you wouldn't be back for another day, X6." Riott stated, sitting straight up. "Already cleared out the construction site?"

"All the Mirelurks there have been exterminated." X6 explained. "I must admit that your friend Cait is…quite unique."

"She can be a handful at times, that Cait." Riott answered. "Makes me shocked that she's dating Curie, of all people."

"Indeed." X6 answered, sitting down next to Riott. "But you seem troubled; what happened to you today?"

"Just had to deal with that Wright woman in Diamond City." The Sole Survivor explained. "Just opened up some old wounds that I'd rather leave alone."

"I remember Dr Ayo complaining on several occasions, about Miss Wright. I do not blame you for feeling annoyed with her."

Riott wasn't really sure how to respond to that, so instead gave silence as her answer. Silenced filled the pre-war house, as the two occupants sat on a bed in silence.

"Do you ever regret it?" Riott inquired.

"Regret what, specifically?" X6 responded.

"Turning your back on the Institute and joining forces with me, even if it meant the destruction of everything you worked towards." The Sole Survivor clarified.

"…to be honest, no." X6 answered. "It was a tough choice, yes. But it was the right choice. As Father was dying, so was the Institute. Father was convinced that you were the future of the Commonwealth, and I could not agree with him more. And while you might not have become Director as Father had hoped… seeing how you've handled everything, from the Brotherhood to Far Harbor to Nuka World, has convinced me even more that you are the best choice for the Commonwealth's future."

"Even though I'm basically an fucked-up emotional wreck?" Riott asked. "Cause let's be honest, I'm about as screwed up mentally as Cait was before she got clean."

"You have mental baggage, that's true, but so does everyone else. There is no-one in the Wastelands who does not have a past they want to leave behind." X6 answered. "And you have constantly proven to be a good person. You have not allowed any of these hardships to break you or make you go against your ethics; you have stayed true to yourself and been an honourable person ever since you stepped foot in the Wastes, a trait that is most commendable. You are a good person Riott, never forget it."

The Sole Survivor turned to look at the courser, a smile etched onto her face, before leaning over and planting a kiss on X6's cheek. A surprised look appeared on X6's face, before quickly returning to his normal 'poker face' look.

"You know for a genetically-engineered killing machine, you can be a real sweetheart." Riott stated. "Guess I owe Piper an apology, eh?"

"I believe that would be most courteous, yes." X6 answered. "And Riott…if you ever need to talk to someone, I am here for you."

"X6…please, call me Amber." Riott responded, scratching the back of her head. "It's my real name, Amber Glencross. But if you tell anyone, I'll kick your ass from here to D.C."

"Your secret is safe with me, Amber." X6 answered. "And I thank you for the trust."


	3. Cold As Ice

The Institute never felt comforting to Ghost, never a place that the Vault 111 native ever felt like home at. It always felt too confining, too lifeless, like the government buildings of the pre-war world. At least with the world up top, with all the blood and violence seen there, it allowed Ghost some form of freedom. In the Institute, he didn't have that luxury of freedom; he was forced into his role of Director, bogged down with mundane tasks and board meetings. For a man like Ghost, the mundane bureaucracy of the Institute bored him, especially given what day it was today…

The Sole Survivor stood at the door to the meeting room, a frown evident on his world-weary face. He had about to enter the room, when he heard the Directorates inside arguing loudly.

"-always does this!" Justin Ayo, temporary head of the SRB, growled.

"Ayo, stop this." Clayton Holdren, head of BioScience, interrupted.

Ghost stopped at the doorways to the meeting room, intrigue evident on his face. Seems as if there is trouble in paradise, at least with the head of the different factions in the Institute.

"I won't be kept silent for any longer, Dr Holdren!" Ayo continued. "Our new Director doesn't have our best interests at heart!"

"Justin!" Allie Filmore, head of Facilities, shouted in horror.

"It's the truth, Dr Filmore." Ayo answered. "If our Director were here right now as he should be, instead of playing around with his Raider whores, I'd say–"

Ghost had heard enough, time to end this conversation before the Sole Survivor did something he would truly regret. The door to the meeting room opened up, with Ghost marching in. Everyone in the room fell silent, as they whipped around to see who had entered. Holdren's and Filmore's eyes widened with shock, while a scowl appeared on Ayo's face. X6-88 just stood in the corner of the room, silently observing everything. Dr Evan Watson, temporary head of Advanced Systems, had an unreadable expression on his face.

"I apologise for my lateness, my fellow Directors. However, it should please you that I wasn't 'playing around with my Raider whores', as our beloved Dr Ayo so eloquently put it." Ghost stated, breaking the silence. "And speaking of Dr Ayo, please don't let me interrupt you. What would you wish to say to me?"

"Director Ghost, he was merely joking." Holdren interrupted, letting out a shaky laugh. "He didn't mean what he said."

"I did mean it Dr Holdren, don't try and defend me." Dr Ayo growled, before glaring at Ghost. "You have been Director of the Institute for nearly a year now, and in that time you have made questionable decisions. I believe you owe us an explanation for some of your decisions."

"Such as?" Ghost prompted.

"The curtailing of research in the BioScience division, for starters." Ayo answered. "Then the allowance of Dr Virgil to return, the decision to shrink down the SRB to a skeleton crew and the sudden departure of Dr Li. Decisions like that, with no prior warning to any of the other Directorates."

The Sole Survivor looked into Ayo's eyes, before looking at the other Directorates. Holdren and Filmore quickly looked away, struggling to meet Ghost's eyes. Watson, however, managed to hold Ghost's gaze. The temporary head of the Advanced Systems Division always had a poker face up, one that Ghost couldn't seem to decipher.

"Why haven't I been confronted before, then?" Ghost asked. "These obviously bother you greatly, so why have you let it fester for this long?"

"Because you are rarely here, Director." Watson interrupted. "Your time spent in the Institute has become increasingly less and less frequent, with more time spent above ground. In fact, you only spent a significant amount of time here when you brought that outsider that needed medical attention."

"A Raider, no less." Ayo grumbled, shaking his head.

"Since this is out in the open, I shall answer your queries." Ghost explained, looking at everyone in the room. "I shall start with the easiest to answer; the location of Doctor Madison Li. She is currently working on an important project above ground, which is in need of her expertise."

"What project is this?" Ayo inquired.

"Helping to flesh out the robotic section of my new army." Ghost continued. "However, she will be returning quite soon, which means Dr Watson will be relieved of his duties as temporary head of Advanced Systems in around a week."

Watson merely nodded his head, his face as unreadable as ever. The Sole Survivor's eyes lingered on Watson, before shifting over to Holdren. The head of BioScience had a nervous look on his face and was sweating slightly, as he looked up at Ghost.

"I curtailed some of the projects of your division, because they were proving to be experimenting just for the sake of it." Ghost explained. "They didn't advance our knowledge or help the Institute; they were merely done because you could. Synth Gorillas, the Warwick project, the FEV experiments…..all have been either harmful or wasteful, and I am curtailing that."

"What about Dr Virgil?" Ayo asked. "And the cuts to my division?"

"I'm getting to those." Ghost answered. "Dr Virgil was brought back into the fold, because he still believes in the Institute and his mind is needed. Besides Holdren here, Dr Virgil is the leading scientist in BioScience. He however had great problems with some of the experiments performed, namely the FEV Project. I have assured him that those projects have been discontinued and they'll never happen again, and he has been more than happy to return."

"Even though he fled the Institute?" Dr Watson inquired.

"He's a valuable member and I am more than happy to welcome him back." The Sole Survivor continued. "As for what I've done to the Synth Retention Bureau, it's simple. One of the main reason for the SRB's existence is to retrieve escaped Synths. Since less synths are escaping, I've felt it appropriate to shrink down the SRB."

"But synths are still escaping." Ayo countered.

"When I arrived, there was a 45% chance that a synth would try to escape." Ghost stated, calmly. "Now, it's only 12%. I am obviously doing something correct, Dr Ayo."

"By treating them like people?" Ayo grumbled, distaste evident in his voice.

"Yes, because they deserve it." Ghost explained. "By treating them like this, they're less likely to leave. You attract more people with honey than with vinegar, Dr Ayo."

"But they are not real." Ayo fired back. "They are created by us and live to serve us! They are just machines, here to serve us!"

"Would you say that about my son, Shaun?" Ghost inquired, eyebrow raised.

Dr Ayo's eyes widened with shock and the colour quickly drained from his face, as he realized what he had just said. Holdren and Filmore looked at each other, worry evident in their eyes. Even though it appeared Ghost was relaxed, his eyes blazed with fury and his whole body was tense. This situation was going to end badly, very badly, at least for Doctor Ayo, if he continued speaking. Ghost closed his eyes and took a deep breathe, before finally addressing Dr Ayo.

"Dr Ayo, I have grown weary of your insubordination and rude manner. I am placing you on probation." Ghost stated. "Your position as temporary head of the SRB is now in jeopardy, and you will report before a group of your peers within a fortnight. They will determine your fate; if they let you continue on, you'll become permanent head of the SRB. If not, then you shall be removed and will be replaced. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"…Father would be ashamed of what you have done." Dr Ayo announced, fury evident to his voice.

That, that was the straw that finally broke the Brahmin's back, for Ghost. Before anyone realized what was happening, the Sole Survivor barrelled forward, knocking a chair or two down along the way, before he finally reached Dr Ayo. The Institute scientist didn't even have a chance to scream, before he found Ghost's scarred hand wrapping around his throat and lifting him up, Ghost's fingers digging into Ayo's throat. Ayo's eyes bugged out and horrified wheezes escaped his mouth, trying and failing to scream for help.

All rational thought had left Ghost's mind, cause all he was seeing was red. It was as if a violent red fog had formed in his brain, suffocating any higher thought processes he had, instead replacing them with a violent anger that could only be sated with blood. He could hear screams, probably from the other Division heads, but they were just background noise to the Vault 111 native. All that concerned him was Ayo's pulse, as it grew slower and slower, as the scientist's breath grew more ragged and his face started turning blue…

"Enough."

Ghost turned at that word, finding himself looking at X6-88. The Institute Courser had his hand clasped on the Sole Survivor's shoulder, the grip firm and with purpose. It was as if a switch had been flipped in Ghost's brain, as the man let out a shuddering breathe and released his grip on Dr Ayo. The Institute scientist collapsed onto the ground in an undignified heap, sucking in air as though he had just been dunked underwater. The other Division heads quickly rushed to Ayo's aid and helped the man up, before quickly dragging him from out of Ghost's reach. The Sole Survivor found it amusing, in a morbid sort of way; these scientists only rushed in to help once the situation had been defused and they knew that they wouldn't be harmed if they tried to intervene.

"Dr Ayo…I have changed my mind. You are not on probation any more, but I do hope you keep your opinions to yourself from now on." Ghost huffed, as he turned for the exit. "This meeting is adjourned, and do not bother me for the rest of the day. This is not a request, by the way, but rather a direct order."

Ghost exited the meeting room, not even bothering to check if anyone had heard what he said, because quite frankly that wasn't the most important task he had on his mind. He needed to make a trip today, a trip he had been dreading for months, but one that needed to be done.

* * *

 

A tired sigh escaped Ghost's lips, as he examined his surroundings. There had been so many times, too many to count, where he wanted to just blow up the entrance to this place, and leave it buried forever. It would've been quite easy too; just place satchel charges at the bottom of the elevator and watch as the elevator shaft collapsed upon itself. But no matter how often Ghost tried to it…he couldn't find it in himself to commit the deed. It was laughable, in a way. The Director of the Institute, the Overboss of Nuka World, the man who brought the entire damn Commonwealth to its knees, couldn't find it within himself to destroy one place.

But that was the thing, wasn't it? This wasn't just any ordinary place. No no, this place shared a history with Ghost. This was the place where it all began, where the Sole Survivor started his path down to the dark side, and never looked back. This was where his old life had ended, the one with a child and a loving wife…

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" The Sole Survivor inquired. "I'm sorry about that, I've just been so busy with things. My life has changed quite a bit these past few months."

Even though she had been dead for at least 60 years, Nora was still as beautiful as ever, even if her body was covered in a thin layer of frost. Her dark skin had gained a blue-ish tinge and the frost in her black hair made it look like she had the night sky resting on her head. But then Ghost looked at her chest, and saw her blue suit stained with her blood. One of the strongest women Ghost had ever known, someone who was not afraid to stand up against injustice and tyranny, had been cut down because she refused to sacrifice her child. Such a Nora thing to do, ending her life trying to save someone else.

"Danse turned on me, believe it or not. Attacked Nuka World and everything." Ghost explained. "Hancock is dead, as well as Piper and Old Longfellow. Slavery is also banned, if that's any consolation."

Nora remained silent inside of her cryo pod, her eyes closed shut. Her eyes, those eyes that would blaze with intelligence, would never be seen by Ghost again. At least, not in this world.

"But something very big happened, more important than anything else." Ghost continued. "I've found a woman, called Mags. I think you might've liked her; she's quite smart and isn't afraid to stand up for herself, not to mention being attractive. I do love you and I always will Nora, but….. I can't hold on to the past, at least not anymore. You're dead, Shaun's dead and my old world is dead. The man that I was, the man that fought in wars and was content to live out his days in Sanctuary Hills, died when the earth was engulfed in flames. I need to keep moving forward."

Ghost turned around and walked away, a feeling of sorrow within his chest. He could feel that bond he had for Nora, before as strong and unwieldy as steel, slowly start to unravel before becoming completely loose. The Sole Survivor didn't look back as he turned off the lights to the room, engulfing Vault 111 in darkness.

* * *

 

"So wait, let me get this straight." Mags Black stated, examining the weapon in her hand. "You made this, by yourself?"

"Well, yeah!" Shaun answered, a wide grin on his face. "Well, Dad did bring me the supplies to build it, but I did it all by myself!"

The Operator leader had to admit, she was hella impressed right now. Crafting weaponry was a valuable skill in the wasteland, but it was one that very few people possessed. It took a great deal of patience, access to resources and a certain flair of imagination to be able to craft weaponry from basically scrap. And yet this kid somehow managed to craft a goddamn laser rifle, from a pile of toasters and other crap. But then again, Mags shouldn't have been too shocked. After all, you'd just have to meet the kid's father to see that intelligence ran in the family.

"So what did you call this again?" Mags inquired.

"It's called the 'Wazer Wifle'!" Shaun explained. "It also has an overcharged capacitor, improved long barrel, and a larger stock so dad can hold more ammo! You think he'll like it?"

"Shaun buddy, your dad would be crazy if he didn't like this." Mags answered. "Cause let me tell you, this is some damn fine craftsmanship. You think you could make one for me?"

"Sure, I could try and make it look exactly like this gun." Shaun responded, nodding his head. "So you and dad can have matching rifles!"

A small chuckle escaped Mags' lips as she heard that, before leaning over and ruffling Shaun's hair. The kid had a bit of a naïve look on the world, always trying to find the good side to things, instead of being a bitter asshole like the rest of the world. Mags definitely was proud of the kid, for being able to not be corrupted by the shittiness of this irradiated world.

The door to the house creaked upon, causing Mags and Shaun to whip their heads around. As soon as they saw Ghost entering, Shaun let out a happy shout, as he barrelled forward and hugged Ghost. A small chuckle escaped Mags' lips, as she walked up to the hugging father and son.

"Well hey there handsome." Mags stated, a grin on her face. "Had a good day today at work?"

Ghost let go of his son, before turning to face the Operator leader. Before Mags could say anything, she found Ghost's arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her forward, as his lips connected with hers. Mags' surprise quickly wore off, as she wrapped her arms around Ghost's neck. After what seemed like an eternity, the two finally broke the kiss, smiles evident on both of their faces.

"I am just happy to be home, my dear Mags." Ghost answered.


	4. Chemical Romance

Frustration escaped the Sole Survivor's lips, her lips curled into a deep scowl. She glared at the ingredients in front of her, practically blaming them for her sudden mental block. The equations, the calculations, the atoms…all refused to work cohesively and just ended up being a jumbled mess. Her fists gripping at her mousy-brown hair, the woman called Scarecrow threw her head back and let out an angry shriek.

"Having fun there, treasure?" A new voice asked.

Scarecrow immediately whipped around at the sound of that voice, a smile appearing on her weary face. Standing near the doorway to the room, decked out in her corset and bandaged-up fists, was Cait. All thoughts about chemicals and equations left the Sole Survivor's mind, as she made her way over to the Irish fighter. Scarecrow's hands automatically wrapped themselves around Cait's waist and her head became nuzzled against Cait's chest, the sound of her heartbeat resonating against the Sole Survivor's ear. The smell of blood, leather and whiskey enveloped Scarecrow and quite honestly, it was probably one of her absolutely favourite smells.

Cait stiffened for a brief second, still somewhat unused to such displays of affection, before wrapping her arms around Scarecrow's waist and planting a soft kiss on her forehead. The two stood there for what seemed like ages, before slowly untangling themselves from their embrace.

The two had been through a lot together and had battled so many things; the Institute, the Brotherhood, Cait's addiction problem, Scarecrow's depression….they faced all of that and yet somehow, despite all the odds, they had managed to beat everything thrown at them. And as much as people doubted the relationship being able to last, the two of them continued to prove everyone wrong.

The Irish fighter sauntered over to the fridge and began rummaging inside, before finding a half-empty bottle of Whiskey. Letting out a triumphant sound, Cait immediately began to gulp down the alcoholic beverage as she made her way back to her lover.

"So, what's got ya so pissed?" Cait inquired.

"Oh, its nothing." Scarecrow responded.

"Bullshit, treasure." Cait retorted, eyebrow raised. "Something's eating your arse, and I know it ain't me."

Scarecrow was pretty sure her eyes had gone as wide as dinner plates at Cait's words. That was one thing she might never get really used to, Cait's crassness and love for sex talk. But the Irish fighter was also brutally honest and not one to mince words, which was definitely something Scarecrow loved.

"I'm trying to recreate this medicine I found in the Med-Tek Research Centre, called Prevent." Scarecrow explained, running a hand through her hair. "I managed to retrieve most of the research and I have enough ingredients and stuff. But I feel like I'm missing something here…."

"Oh, what does this Prevent do?" Cait asked.

"It's meant to cure this disease that has been affecting certain people. I don't know much about the disease, only that it causes blue boils to appear on the skin." Scarecrow answered. "So far, I only know about two people who have been affected, but I'm worried that more cases will appear."

"Treasure, you worry too much." Cait retorted with a shake of her head. "Ain't ever heard of a disease like that in all me years in the Commonwealth, and I doubt any doctor would've heard of it. Sounds pretty damn rare, is what I'm sayin'."

"But what if it suddenly becomes more common?" Scarecrow responded, a weary tone evident to her voice. "I'm trying to stop this disease dead in its track, before it becomes a problem. Only problem is that this damn research has suddenly came crashing still and I can't make any progress."

The Sole Survivor collapsed onto a nearby coach, the piece of furniture letting out an annoyed groan at its occupant. Silence slowly filled the room, before the sound of springs being compressed filled the air and an arm wrapped around Scarecrow's shoulders.

"Listen, cause I hate ta repeat myself." Cait announced. "You are the smartest lass I know, and that includes that synth Curie. You're also stubborn as fuck and I know you won't give up now. You'll dust yourself off and go back ta tackling this problem. So stop being a fucking whiny bitch and go kick this Prevent's arse."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Cait." Scarecrow responded, a small smile on her face. "I really needed it."

Before the Irish fighter could respond, Scarecrow moved her head towards Cait's. The Sole Survivor's lips brushed against her lover's, just a feather light and hesitant kiss. The taste of whiskey and Addictol filled Scarecrow's mouth, causing her head to swim. A shiver went down Cait's spine, as she leant in and returned the kiss, her hands moving up and down her lover's body, before resting snugly at the back of Scarecrow's neck. The warmth of her hands was like fire against Scarecrow's skin, lighting a warm ache within her chest. The two of them just sat there on their beaten-up couch, wishing that this moment could last forever. After what seemed like an eternity, Scarecrow slowly pulled back from the embrace, her face flushed.

"I really needed that." The Sole Survivor stated.

"Well, we can continue this in bed." Cait retorted. "That is, if ya don't mind staying up all night."

Scarecrow looked at her lover, her eyes becoming as wide as saucers. But before she could respond, the door to the bedroom slowly swung open and a little boy appeared. With short brown hair and eyes that sparkled with intelligence, Shaun was the spitting image of his mother. And that shouldn't have been a surprise, given that the young synth was created specifically to look like Scarecrow.

"Mum, is everything okay?" Shaun asked, a frown on his face. "I heard noises and I thought something happened."

"Don't worry Shaun, everything's fine." Scarecrow responded. "I'm just having some alone time with Cait. You can go back to bed, honey."

The young synth looked at his mother and then at Cait, before a yawn escaped his lips and he started rubbing at his eyes. Shaun muttered something at his mother, before turning around and heading back to bed. As Shaun shut the door behind him, Cait reached over and wrapped her arms around Scarecrow's waist.

"Yeah, my research can definitely wait." Scarecrow stated, before leaning in and kissing Cait.

* * *

 

"Is something wrong, Hancock?" Scarecrow inquired.

Exhaustion coursed through the Sole Survivor's veins, spreading all throughout her body. It felt like her limbs were filled with lead, and it was taking a lot of willpower for her not to nod off here and now. She was glad that she was currently sitting, otherwise she'd have collapsed by now. Too many late nights up and not enough naps, that was her problem. Shaking her head slowly, Scarecrow turned her attention back to the only other occupant in the room.

"First time in two weeks I've managed to get a hold of you, given you've been locked inside of your house for ages. Hancock explained, an interested tone to his voice. "So either that Irish lover of yours is keeping you busy, or your research has hit one massive roadblock."

It was funny, in a way, her being friends with Hancock, just given how polar opposite they were. One was a drug-abusing Ghoul with a flair for the dramatic, while the other was a reserved pre-War housewife who preferred staying out of the limelight. But as with Cait, the Vault 111 native just found herself able to gel well with Hancock. The two just managed to always be on the same wave length about certain topics, with neither one stepping on the other's toes too hard.

"I've basically made no progress this week, unfortunately." Scarecrow muttered. "I keep on hitting roadblock after roadblock, and I'm practically ready to kill someone."

"Well I hope that isn't me." Hancock responded. "After all, I am the guy that's letting you live for free here in Goodneighbour."

"Oh trust me when I say I appreciate it, Hancock." Scarecrow said "Goodneighbour is basically the only place in the Commonwealth where I feel safe, funnily enough. At least here, people are upfront about wanting to kill you."

"Ain't that the truth, sister." Hancock replied, letting out a chuckle. "But if you're really struggling that bad, maybe you need a bit of assistance?"

"No Mentats, Hancock." Scarecrow huffed. "After all Cait's been through, I don't want to start using Chems. Plus I have Shaun to worry about, so I can't be like you and be as high as a kite all day."

"Ouch, you hurt my feelings Crow. If I still had tear ducts, I'd be crying a river by now." Hancock chuckled. "I actually have heard of a place, that might be of some assistance to you. It's a place real far from here, like you'd have to take a boat to get there. It's called Far Harbor, and that could very well be the place where you find some answers."

"Why would you say that?" The Sole Survivor inquired, eyebrow raised.

"Cause from what I've heard, deep on this island, is this sanctuary populated with synths. Synths who didn't go through the Railroad, but instead fled far off the grid to hide from the Institute." Hancock explained. "I'll admit, it's a longshot, but it could be of some help to you."

"How come I've never heard of it?" Scarecrow inquired.

"The people there are real isolated and prefer to stick to themselves." Hancock stated. "Plus very few people in the Commonwealth have possession of a proper working boat or a Vertibird, cause that's really the only way you'll get to Far Harbor. But luckily for you, our dear detective Nicky is actually planning a trip to the Harbor. He has a case that leads over there, and I know he wouldn't say no to you tagging along. So whaddya say, Crow? Ya interested?"

Scarecrow just sat there silently, a contemplative look on her face. After a few minutes, she slowly got up from her chair and nodded at Hancock.

"Well, looks like I've got a new mission." The Sole Survivor stated. "Next stop, Far Harbor."


	5. Rude Awakening

Waking up with a knife to his throat was something that Rourke Lorcan had faced many times in his life, both pre-War and post-War. Today though, today was a bit different, given he actually knew the person who was threatening his life.

“Okay, I’m done with these games.” Cait growled. “Whaddya want from me?”

The Irish fighter was currently straddling The Sole Survivor’s waist, one hand holding the knife pointed at his throat and the other firmly grasping his shirt. The mercenary looked down, trying to find his gun, only to find it sitting by the campfire, way outta arm’s reach. Rourke had to admit, the girl was damn smart, removing all of his weapons before confronting him like this. 

“Ya gotta be more specific there, love.” Rourke grunted. “I want a lotta things.”

“Let me be clear here, ya fucking wagon. I got the knife here, and I ain’t afraid to gut ya like a Brahmin.” Cait answered. “Ya want somethin’ from me, only reason you bought my contract and dragged me outta that shitehole Combat Zone. And I ain’t gonna wait til you tell me why, so I want answers and I want ‘em now.”

The smart-ass remark that was brewing in Lorcan’s mind was quickly cut short, as the pressure on his neck grew more intense. Lorcan let out a small grunt, as he saw a small trickle of blood pool around the knife’s tip; Cait was not fucking around here. 

“Number of reasons, really.” Lorcan admitted.

“Start namin’ them reasons, then.” Cait stated. “Or else.”

“I saw you fighting, handling yourself in the Combat Zone. Scouted the location for a week or two, went undercover dressed as a Raider.” Rourke explained. “And you? You’re one scary bitch. Taking on a freaking Super Mutant with your bare hands, and beating it? Definitely not someone I want on my bad side.”

“So ya just needed a meat shield then, someone ta take a bullet for you?” Cait growled. “Ya fuckin’ gobshite, I ain’t protecting your arse.”

“Nah, ain’t just that love. Cause honestly? It didn’t feel right to leave you.” Lorcan continued. 

“Whaddya mean?”

“I might be a mercenary, but that ain’t mean I’m a cold-hearted bastard. It...well, it didn’t feel right, leaving ya alone in that Combat Zone, among all them dead raiders. And honestly? I saw that look in your eyes; saw it enough back in Anchorage and the like. Just a look of no longer giving a fuck, not caring what happens to ya, just waiting for the end to come...might as well have shot you myself, if I was gonna leave you there.”

“So ya did it outta the kindness of your own heart?”

“Yes, I fuckin’ did. So either ya kill me now and be done with it, or put the fuckin’ knife down.”

Silence fell between the two, both unsure of what exactly to say. A thoughtful look was evident on Cait’s face, biting her lower lip hard enough that Rourke expected blood to be drawn.

“Give me one reason, one damn good reason, why I should trust ya.” Cait muttered. 

“You didn’t kill me in my sleep.” The Sole Survivor responded. “You woke me up and talked to me, ‘stead of just slicing my throat and taking everything. Good enough reason for ya, love?”

Rourke could feel the knife shake slightly, before it suddenly disappeared. The Irish fighter let out a tired grunt before she chucked away the knife, the weapon spinning in the air before landing with a thud next to a rotten tree stump.

“Fuckin’ persuasive bastard.” Cait growled. “But I’mma telling you this once ‘n once only. You even think of fucking me over or try to mess with me? I’ll slice ya from mouth to arsehole and turn you into a fuckin’ jacket. Ya understand me?”

“Crystal clear, love.” Rourke answered back, rubbing at his throat. “Now get off me, would ya? I need a breather.”

Realization hit Cait like a super mutant fist, as she looked down and saw the position the two were currently in. The Irish fighter let go of Rourke’s shirt and her back went straight up, her hands running through her dull red hair. 

“How do I know you ain’t gonna kill me as soon as I turn my back, eh?” Cait inquired, eyebrow raised. “I might be willing to trust ya, but I ain’t gonna trust you that much.”

Rourke just let out a tired grunt, hitting the back of his head against the ground beneath him. This fucking woman was gonna be the death of him. Not the Institute, not the Brotherhood, not any of the damn mercenaries hunting for the bounty on his head, but this bloody fighter from the Combat Zone. 

“I’m exhausted as fuck, woman. Let me sleep in damn peace now, kay?” Rourke grumbled, his patience wearing dangerously thin.

A small chuckle escaped from Cait’s scarred lips, as she final stood up and removed herself from Rourke. The mercenary let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the pressure to his chest was finally removed. Rourke sat up, rubbing at his throat and staring holes into the back of Cait’s skull. The Irish fighter didn’t seem to notice; instead too busy stretching her limbs and cracking her knuckles. 

“We’re headed for Fort Hagen, soon as the sun rises.” Rourke explains. “So ya better get some sleep now, ya hear?”

“That shitehole? Ain’t nobody there.” Cait answered. “Why we headin’ there for?”

“Oh trust me, there’s somebody there.” The Sole Survivor grunted, a scowl forming on his weathered face. “And I’m gonna kill him, plain and simple." 

“Contract?” Cait asked.

“Nah, ain’t getting paid for this one.” Rourke responded. “This…this is more personal.”


	6. Disguises

Catalina Perez didn’t know why she kept coming back to this place. It wasn’t a place she had fond memories of, far from it. Hard to be nostalgic about a place where you destroyed a single organization and killed hundreds of people. But time and time again, the Sole Survivor found herself walking across the Commonwealth, and ending up in the ruins of the Boston Airport. The place remained a ghost town, devoid of any human life. Seems as if this entire place had been considered cursed, and sworn off by the entire Commonwealth. 

Even now, months after the fight, she could still see the fractured remains of the Prydwen poking out from the irradiated sea, the metal twisted and charred black. Blowing up an entire airship while she was still in it, while fighting the Elder of the freaking Brotherhood of Steel with her bare hands, had certainly been a risky maneuver…but Catalina didn’t really give a shit. After Shaun, Glory, Hancock...she stopped caring about whether she lived or died. 

“You still don’t, genio.” A small voice whispered in the back of her head, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

The Sole Survivor could only sigh and shake her head at that thought, because honestly? She couldn’t really argue with it. If she actually cared about herself, she would’ve just hung it up and lived out the rest of her life in Nuka World with Gage and Codsworth. It definitely wasn’t as exciting as leading the Minutemen and helping the Railroad free synths, but it was definitely a comforting life to lead. But instead she decided to do the vigilante shit, dressing up as El Carnicero Tranquilo and hunting down all those bastardos that deserved it. 

“Nice day, isn’t it?” A new voice announced, full of cheer to it. 

Already whipping out her plasma pistol, Catalina turned and pointed her gun right at the intruder. It was some punk, with a blonde beard and ponytail, dressed in a lab coat. The scowl on Catalina’s face only became more pronounced, as she noticed the punk’s sunglasses. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Catalina growled. “First Doc, now you? Tell Dez to piss off and leave me alone, before I start getting pissed off.”

If there was one thing that Catalina couldn’t stand, was Deacon’s dumb tricks. The man seemed to enjoy dressing up and hiding in crowds, waiting to see how long it’d take before the Sole Survivor would spot him. Well looks like his little game just blew up in his face, given it helped train Catalina in spotting his ass from a mile away. 

“Doc? Dez? The fuck you talking about, bitch?” The punk barked back, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “I’m just hunting for some scrap, ya hear?”

“Deacon, keep it up and I’ll shoot you.” Catalina explained. “You really don’t wanna test my patience, amigo.”

The two stood there in the ruins of the Boston Airport in silence, as if waiting to see who was gonna blink first. Catalina kept her pistol trained on the punk, her face as still as stone. She wasn’t usually a betting woman, but she’d bet her last cap that this fucker was Deacon. She was goddamn sure of it. After what seemed like an eternity, the punk let out a small chuckle and shook his head.

“It’s the sunglasses, isn’t it?” Deacon stated, a grin forming on his face. “Maybe I should wear regular glasses? Or even better, a helmet! That way nobody could see my face. What do you think, Fuego? Could I pull off a helmet?”

“You’re damn lucky I didn’t blow your head off, Deacon.” Catalina huffed, holstering her pistol. “What do you want, eh?”

“What, can’t friends hang out and have a chat? Maybe swing over to Diamond City, share a cup of coffee, eh?”

Deacon reached over to pat Catalina on the shoulder, as a showing of friendship, but the Sole Survivor was having none of it. She shrugged off Deacon’s hand and looked at the Railroad agent, with a glare so fierce it would have made lesser men flinch.

“Don’t start with your lies Deacon, Im sick of them. We were never friends, last time I checked. We worked in the Railroad, we did some missions together, that’s it.”

“Feugo-”

“It’s Catalina, Catalina Perez.” The Sole Survivor stated, scowling. “Call me ‘Feugo’ one more time, I’ll rip your nuts off. Tú entiendes?” 

Deacon raised his hands, as if surrendering, before taking a few steps backwards. Catalina didn’t seem to notice, instead focusing on the charred remains of the Prydwen. Deacon, for once in his life, found himself unsure of what exactly to say. 

“Go back to HQ and tell Dez to leave me alone.” Catalina finally said. “I’m done with the Railroad, I don’t want anything more to do with them. And if she keeps bothering me? I’m gonna rip open the doors to the HQ, drag Dez out with my bare hands and beat some sense into her until she finally leaves me the fuck alone. You understand?”

“...if that’s what you want, Catalina.” Deacon answered, rubbing at the back of his head.

“It’s what I want, compañero. Now go be a good boy and relay my message, kay?” 

The Sole Survivor didn’t bother turning around, to see whether or not Deacon had actually followed through with her demand. The sound of retreating footsteps was the only confirmation she really needed. A weary sigh escaped from Catalina, as she ran a hand through her dirty blonde hair. Why couldn’t that pendejo Dez just leave her alone, let her live her life out in Nuka World? Why did she have to keep fucking pestering her, needling her and trying to force her to rejoin her stupid Railroad? The woman didn’t even have the fucking decency to apologize, for what happened to Shaun…

“That woman…is gonna pay, one day.” The Sole Survivor muttered, turning around and making the long trip back home. “And she’s gonna pay fucking soon if she keeps bothering me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey this is the final Chapter to Commonwealth Blues, and I am very proud of myself for finally finishing it! ^^


End file.
